If You Mean It
by Draco-Zelda
Summary: Wilson looks back on his relationship with House on their wedding day.


A/N: Well it's finished. I cranked most of this one out last night while in a chat. David, happy birthday even though it's technically a day late! I have to say – I had the most fun writing this. It got my House feels out and I got to finish a birthday present.  
No regrets.

Today was the day.

Wilson adjusted his pink and black tuxedo. The hot pink tie looked far too tacky for what was supposed to be a serious outfit, but the novelty was what made it amusing. Normally, Wilson would have never been seen in such a hideous, flamboyant outfit, but today was not a normal day.

Not even close.

He slowly checked himself over. His clean shave and immaculately neat hair were just signs of his anxiousness. His OCD was enhancing over his overly-nervous persona paired with a stressful situation. He could feel his heart thump against his chest – the anxiety was killing him and he knew that the only way to get over it was to just go through with the day's plans.

Wilson never thought he'd get married again. He had virtually given up on a long-term relationship ever since his last divorce. The exhilarating sensation of falling in love was nothing in comparison to the heart-wrenching sting of falling out. He couldn't count the nights where he'd take a bottle of hard liquor and drown his sorrows throughout the evenings. He didn't even want to know how many times he had cried himself to sleep because he knew it was over.

It took some time for him to realize that it wasn't love that was in vain – it was who he was with that was. He hadn't realized it when it had happened, but around a year after his latest divorce disaster he figured out that everything he wanted was right in front of him. The person to laugh with, the person to vent to, and the person to hold was all in his best friend - Gregory House.

It was not an easy thing to come to terms with, and the crush was very subtle at first. An extended glance or an extra thoughtfulness put in his responses to his friend were the first hints. He was shocked when House didn't give him a snarky but observant remark at these things at first, but Wilson would discover later that it was due to House's own hesitation on the matter.

He was nervous about it at first. House wasn't exactly an easy person to be friends with, let alone crush on. It was a casual conversation that started their relationship, or rather what started the extra confusion. Both of them were sitting on the couch, beers in hand, watching the game. What teams or what sports were playing was irrelevant – the fun was in the company of the evening. The question of orientation came up, but it was casual. Wilson decided to ask House what he would do if a man asked him out. It was small, but there was a pause before House gave a sarcastic remark back.

"Honey, did you get rejected by Chase? I'm sorry – his accent is to die for, isn't it?" He said in a false flamboyant voice, classic projecting by House. There was no questioning it – House loved to harass Wilson, but now wasn't the time for him to do so.

Then it was Wilson's turn to over-analyze. "Care to explain why you're deflecting?"

Normally, if House hadn't been affected by this comment, he would shrug it off and ignore it. However, House snapped. "There is nothing to deflect – it was a stupid question." He said as he took a sip of his beer, letting the bottle linger at his lips to distract him.

"You say that and yet you just deflected." Wilson's voice was agitated as well. He had fostered this crush for at least three months prior to this conversation even existing, and the lack of response was about as tolling as a rejection to him at this point. "Answer the question for me, please?"

House turned to him – the puzzle had just been solved. "You're hiding something. Don't deny it – I can tell." Wilson didn't intervene as House went on his rant. "Don't act like you haven't been repressing something big, buddy. Those long glances and pauses before you talk to me haven't been ignored by me – I'm not that stupid."

If he hadn't been so infatuated, he probably would have blown off the comment. However, since he was completely enamoured with House, an awkward silence remained. "I was expecting you to deny that." House said, though the snarky edge from his voice had seemed to disappear in the silence. There was now this raw layer of emotion that Wilson had rarely seen from the man.

"Did you want me to deny it?" Wilson sputtered out, the words seeming a thousand miles away from him. Somehow they had inched closer to each other on the couch; their thighs brushed against each other as they stared at one another, both of them refusing to break the contact.

"If you mean it, then say it." House retorted, trying to keep an impersonal tone of voice, but failing pathetically. The raw tone was just shedding more layers, becoming more and more exposed.

"Well, what would you say if I wanted you?" Wilson leaned in close, his words coming out in quiet whispers.

Finally House leaned in, their faces were centimeters apart. "If you mean it. Say. It." His voice was husky as Wilson shivered at it.

He didn't say it - he did it. It wasn't long before Wilson closed the distance and sealed their contact. The kiss was brief, but the contact after is what really confused Wilson. House's hand lingered against his cheek, the unshaved stubble on Wilson's face caused the friction as House adjusted his grasp. He could feel the body heat radiating between the two of them, the sheer physical connection was overwhelming Wilson.

With neither of them knowing what to say, Wilson stood up and bolted out of the room. He didn't know what the kiss meant. He thought that House would have rejected him automatically, and that would be that. Accepting the kiss and not saying a damn word after was exactly the opposite of what Wilson wanted. He left House's apartment without another word, feeling more confused than ever on what to do.

He avoided him. Wilson attempted to ignore House's presence for the week after that, and at first it almost seemed like it worked. Maybe it was because House didn't know what to say but for about a week the two 'friends' ran away from each other like the plague. Finally when Wilson was in his office, looking over a patient's test results, House bashed through the door.

"We need to talk," he proclaimed, spinning his cane about in the air. He seemed unaffected by the events, which only caused Wilson to be more annoyed.

"No, House - you need to grow up and learn to leave well enough alone." The agitation in his voice was definitely there, the intention for him to go was there, but still House did not remove himself from Wilson's office. Instead, his voice lowered as he leaned on Wilson's desk and spoke right in his face. His attitude was beyond immature.

"No, I don't think I need to. I think you need to stop avoiding and sulking in the corner like an impudent child and maybe just learn to face your problems-"

House was cut off by Wilson finally standing up and pushing him. It wasn't enough to hurt him – House only stumbled back a few steps, but the fact that he was pushed said it all. They both glanced at each other but refused to make eye contact, breathless at the actions that led to this.

"You," House started - his voice in recoil as he hesitantly continued. "Need to accept the fact that we kissed."

"I need to accept-I can't believe you-"Wilson had to wait a minute before his outraged sputters formed complete sentences. "I need to get away from you. I need to fall for someone who isn't half a person – I need someone who isn't going to run when things get tough. I need someone who wants me maybe even half as much as I want them."

There was another pause, and then House answered. "If you listened for a minute, then maybe you'd realize that I do want you." House limped back to the Wilson, his face unreadable. "You're the one who ran out – not me."

"You didn't run because you knew I would go first." Wilson insisted, but House merely shook his head and smiled slightly.

"I didn't want you to run; you just thought it was a good idea." House tentatively placed his hand on Wilson's arm, running it down to his hands with a cool touch before brushing his fingers with his own. "So, do we do this or do we not?" He asked, and there was a noticeable crack in his voice. Somehow that pleased Wilson – maybe House was just as unsure about this as he was.

"I don't know, House, this might not be a good-"Wilson started sputtering out excuses, things House already knew weren't true.

"If you mean it – say it." He repeated, and that was when they decided to start their relationship.

The relationship had a slow start; neither of them really knew where they were going. Most of the time their dates were just like when they hung out before, except now it sometimes involved the odd kiss and hug. They eventually did become more physical, but that was much further on, and even then it wasn't something to note. Their relationship was just naturally progressing.

And here he was – about to marry his best friend. House had clearly decided on the tuxedo and to be honest he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. Sure it was tacky, but it wasn't like today was about the clothes anyways.

He took in a breath, feeling nervous as hell. He knew that he had no choice – he had to go face the music and leave the room.

House had proposed to him, and to be honest it was surprise to Wilson. He didn't expect when they went out to a small restaurant near Wilson's apartment that House would hide the ring in the bread. Although, to be honest, he did expect House to wait until the ring was in Wilson mouth as he munched on his meal. He accepted automatically, but then realized the result of his actions. They had kept their relationship a secret from many of their friends and coming out to each and every one of them was awkward enough. Now they were on their wedding day, and Wilson's nerves were finally getting the best of him.

He heard a knock at the door, Wilson turned around to see House, fully dressed in a black and sky blue tuxedo. In all honesty it made an outstanding compliment to Wilson's own tuxedo. "Hey, you ready?" he asked, Wilson shifted uncomfortably. House looked great - much better than he thought he did by any means.

"Yeah, I'm just…I guess I'm just anxious," Wilson mumbled out, House chuckled and walked over to him, gently kissing him on the cheek. Wilson assumed that he was holding out on the lip kiss for the official ceremony.

"At least you said it. Now c'mon – I'm sure we've got a multitude of people wanting to see us make out in front of a church." His classic sarcastic attitude was there, but there also was a level of sincerity that had progressively grown over the time they were together. The two walked out of the room, prepared for the day.

Vows were exchanged, lips were kissed, and House's and Wilson's bond was secured that day. The time between the actual ceremony and the reception was insanely long to both of them. Although House said he'd rather just go get drunk at a bar to celebrate, Wilson insisted on a proper catered reception. And since Wilson had the most experience wedding planning wise, he got to control 99.9% of it.

Well…House did have _one _thing he insisted upon.

When it was time for their first dance, House begged Wilson for literally weeks before the wedding that he could choose the song. I suppose all the sincerity and heart during the day needed to be counteracted by something snarky but still with good intentions. As the two got up together for their first dance, the stereo system blasted.

'_Never gonna give you up,_

_Never gonna let you down._

_Never gonna run around and desert you._

_Never gonna make you cry,_

_Never gonna say goodbye._

_Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you.'_

Wilson could already hear the groans. House was a goofball prankster that couldn't resist screwing up the lovey dovey atmosphere even at his own wedding.

And now he was Wilson's goofball prankster.


End file.
